


You Look Like You've Been For Breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel

by Mia_Zeklos



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: AU, Children of Earth Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4798742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto finds himself in a rather unfavourable situation and is saved by a mysterious alien. After that, his life is never quite the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Look Like You've Been For Breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [aliens_and_time_machines_prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/aliens_and_time_machines_prompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> "If I had known there would be a dead man sitting on my couch, I would have stayed in bed."

The tales of his adventures – or at least, told in the version Ianto liked to spread around – usually ranged from true stories to greatly exaggerated anecdotes, mostly designed to impress that new guy from Management. Even that way, he’d never told about – or experienced – the joy of twenty reptilian-like creatures surrounding him from all sides and claiming that the Earth had been their home prior to humanity’s ‘invasion’. Ianto's numerous attempts to defend his species had been to no avail and he was starting to get desperate.

“Honestly, Ma’am,” he started, “I didn’t mean to offend you or your- friends. I just thought-”

“You defied us!” Their leader hissed and Ianto took a cautious step back, his hands still raised in surrender. “You’re the invaders here and now-”

“And just when I thought we’d settled that already.”

Ianto turned around briskly along with the lizard creatures to see the man who was approaching. He looked to be about Ianto's age and his height, too, with floppy light brown hair and – Ianto noticed as the man came closer – eyes in a rather fascinating shade of green.

“Who are you?” Ianto looked back at the leader of the reptiles as it – she? – spoke. “ _What_ are you?” she specified when there was no response.

The man shrugged carelessly. “What makes you think I’m not human?”

“Your body temperature,” the leader shot back and Ianto looked between the two of them, alarmed. He wasn’t sure that being saved by another alien was a good idea, but he was even less sure that he had any other option. “It’s lower than this one’s.”

Ianto rolled his eyes at the last bit, but thankfully, the creature didn’t notice – or, perhaps, couldn’t understand the meaning of the gesture.

“You got me,” the man spoke again; his smile inviting everyone involved to do their worst. “Would you like to know what I am? I’m a Time Lord,” he informed them. He didn’t look hostile at all – his hands were clasped behind his back and he was still smiling brightly, but Ianto could sense the dangerous edge to his voice. Or maybe he was just making the connection to a particular notable person from said race that Torchwood considered to be sign number one that humanity’s days were numbered. “And as you would most likely know, my first and most important duty is to protect any world that is unjustly attacked.” From the little information Ianto had on Time Lords, he knew that that was a lie, but preferred to keep his mouth shut. A Time Lord was better than– whatever these things happened to be. “Has this human provoked you in any way?”

The leader somehow managed to look unimpressed. “I challenged the position of the Torchwood Institute in the earthly matters and asked him to lead us to his leader.”

“Torchwood? You work for Torchwood?” The Time Lord sent Ianto a disappointed glance and then directed his attention to the threat at hand. “What did he say?”

“’Fat chance, Yvonne’s got better things to do.’”

This time, the look turned exasperated. “Did you really?”

Ianto tried to look suitably chastised. “Might have.”

And then, negotiations started. Right there, in the middle of that street where thankfully no one bothered to come, the Time Lord started telling the aliens about some intergalactic laws and Ianto only tuned back in to hear him say, “…and you need to come with me.”

He followed dutifully until they were at a safe distance from the lizards and then started protesting. “I didn’t just avoid alien abduction so _another_ alien could abduct me, you know.”

“I’m not abducting you,” the man said and turned around suddenly. “Do you know who I am?”

“You’re a Time Lord,” Ianto said, more a question than a statement. “That’s what you said.”

“I’m the Doctor,” the man continued and Ianto’s eyes widened. “Does that ring a bell?”

“Does it just,” Ianto said, unsure if he was supposed to be scared and report this to his superiors instead of feeling awe bloom inside him. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s not important now,” the Doctor waved him off. “Here’s a better question, Ianto Jones: do you have a death wish? Or do you just make a hobby out of irritating trigger happy creatures?”

“How do you know my name?” Ianto asked, once again on alert. “I should report you,” he added. He hadn’t been very convincing, or so it seemed, because the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“So report me.”

Ianto gave a huff of irritation. He knew that he wasn’t actually going to tell about this to anyone, mostly because he wanted to know more, but also because he wasn’t sure what Yvonne would do if given the opportunity.

“Back to my question,” Ianto pressed instead. “How do you know me? I’ve never seen you before in my life. Well, I’ve seen the files, but you looked different then.”

“I don’t know you that well, although we’ve met a handful of times,” the Doctor started, staring at Ianto intently, as if he thought he was keeping something from him. His eyes really were mesmerising; bright and focused. “But not yet, not for you, and I’m beginning to think I see how it is.”

“Because I’ve met you now, right?” Ianto asked, trying to figure out the time/space rules. “So future me knows, but past you doesn’t?”

“I... sort of, yes,” the Doctor nodded and Ianto felt the slightest bit of pride when he realised that the Time Lord looked impressed. “Torchwood has taught you a thing or two after all, hasn’t it?”

“Not enough for me to hand you over to the proper authorities, obviously,” Ianto quipped. “So... is it all real? You know, the time machine and all that? Or are we all just losing our time.”

“You are losing your time here, that much is true.” The Doctor said and Ianto glared at him. “But otherwise, yes, you’ve got it right. The time travel and everything else your documents say is real, although probably not in the way that queen Victoria understood it at the time.”

“And you, hm, take people with you too?” Ianto asked carefully and the Doctor gave him a thoughtful look. “I’m just asking, you know.”

“I do take people with me,” the Doctor stated, his voice tentative. “And right now, my current companions are sort of on and off.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Ianto agreed eagerly. “And a time machine means that you can take me back to this particular moment, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” the Doctor nodded with a smile dawning on his face. “Is there anything in particular you would like to see?”

Now that he was being asked outright, Ianto wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. All of time and space; there were so many things to see, and yet...

“I want to see a star,” he blurted out at last. “I want to see a star being born.”

“A star being born,” the Doctor repeated, something close to wonder in his eyes. “You’ve got it. Come on, Ianto Jones! We’ve got to find you a star.”

**o.O.o**

Much, much later – two months in the real world, five months on and off on the TARDIS – Canary Wharf fell. The Doctor (not Ianto's; the one he’d seen in the files and heard so much about) was there and things had gone downhill from there. First there had been the Cybermen and then the Daleks and Torchwood Tower had fallen into absolute chaos. Ianto finally managed to get out of what was left of the Archives and spotted a familiar figure in the hallway.

“Doctor!” he shouted after him, wincing at how hoarse his throat was. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to get out!” The Doctor shouted as he neared him and Ianto somehow found the strength to roll his eyes.

“No kidding!”

“No, really, get out of here. Now!” The Doctor shouted. “Didn’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Lisa,” Ianto nodded. “I have to get her out, she’s in HR.”

“Then go,” the Doctor urged.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Ianto asked. He was drained and didn’t have the energy to keep going; if he heard that he’d died here, he wasn’t sure he’d do anything more but just give up while he still could just die without being turned into one of those things.

“Ianto, there are fixed points in time,” the Doctor said, words melting into one another, “and I thought that you surviving this was one of them, but it’s not. It’s not, and I’ve got to help you get out of here. So run while you still can; I’ll clear all the exits from here.”

“I can’t leave you here,” Ianto protested immediately. He knew that he couldn’t win – it was either the Doctor or Lisa – but the decision was made for him as the Time Lord took advantage of his momentary distraction and pushed him through the open door, pointing the sonic screwdriver at it seconds later to close it. “Doctor, let me in! Let me in!”

But it didn’t matter how much he’d shout; the Doctor was blocking him out completely and finally, Ianto had to keep searching. He could see why the Time Lord had done it, now; maybe he couldn’t save everyone, he probably couldn’t even save himself, but he’d save _someone_.

And for now, it had to be enough.

**o.O.o**

It wasn’t until Jack started telling him about his adventures with the Doctor (just a week or two after he’d come back to his team) that Ianto realised how much he’d loved him. It was in a terribly simple and uncomplicated way. Not like he loved Jack or Lisa, or any of the boyfriends and girlfriends he’d ever had. With each one of them, there was always a catch. They didn’t like questions, or kept asking too much of them; they wanted a lot of attention or hated the smell of cigarettes or didn’t like the way he styled his hair or liked to know what he felt and thought at every moment of the day. And he’d loved – still loved – every single one of them, but not in the same way. He loved the Doctor in the same way that he loved life – it just came hand in hand with the simple pleasure of existing.

He never told Jack anything about it – he didn’t want to discourage him by saying that he’d met the future him at Canary Wharf – and tried to bury these few months of his life as deep in his mind as possible.

That was, of course, until the Doctor decided to visit.

**~~~**

“Doctor, hello! I’m glad you noticed our little problem.” Jack was smiling at him, apparently eager to show him his base and the Doctor find himself smiling in response. At first, when he’d heard of Jack’s work with them, he’d been severely disappointed. It had all changed when he’d seen them on the screen – the way they worked like clockwork and seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing. They were still a bit too violent for his tastes, but that was humanity for you. They protected their planet as well as they could.

“Ianto, Gwen!” Jack shouted, making him focus on him again. “The Doctor’s here!”

There was the pounding of feet down the stairs to the tourist office and then a man appeared in the doorway. Ianto Jones – only familiar from the screen in the TARDIS – stared at him with some unknown excitement lighting up his face. He sobered up quickly enough and cleared his throat, coming closer to where he and Jack were standing.

“I don’t think we’ve been officially introduced, Sir,” he said and took the Doctor’s hand in his for a firm handshake. “Ianto Jones, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the Doctor returned, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “From what I’m hearing, you’ve worked at Canary Wharf, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” the man said; the same guarded expression on his face. “I didn’t have the pleasure to meet you personally, mind you.”

Despite how polite he was, there was something vaguely suspicious there. It was an expression he’d seen on a different face all too soon – ‘you’re the Doctor but not really’ – and he kind of wished he hadn’t made the comparison.

Apparently his future self was leading a rather interesting life.

**~~~**

“So!” The Doctor clapped his hands together and Ianto gave him a suspicious glance as he looked up from the documents he was focusing on. “I don’t seem to live to your expectations, Ianto Jones.”

“No, Sir,” the man assured him with a carefully polite smile. “You’re exactly what I expected you to be.”

The Doctor felt vaguely insulted, even though he wasn’t sure why. The Torchwood agent was looking at him with some barely suppressed discontent and he didn’t know how he was supposed to handle it. “You know me in the future, don’t you?”

“I’d actually say I know you in the past, but...” Ianto shrugged as if meeting time travellers was an everyday business for him. Come to think of it, maybe it was. “Different points of view, I guess.”

“Yes, I get that, but it’s just... Recently, I met someone else who seemed to know me in the future and she wouldn’t say anything else. I’m just trying to gather a bit of information, because things are looking a bit, let’s say, curious for my future self.”

Ianto's interest seemed to grow all of a sudden. “A woman, huh? Lots of hair, gorgeous eyes, very, very beautiful?”

The Doctor froze. “How did you know?”

“I’ve met future you, remember? She’s around by then; I’ve met her a few times.”

“Just how often is she around?” The Doctor asked testily. There was something in Ianto's eyes that made it look like he was talking about some sort of deity and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“A lot,” Ianto said, a smirk curling his lips. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course I’m not.” River Song could do whatever she pleased with whoever she pleased. Still, he rather hoped that Ianto's apparent adoration when it came to her was just the natural reaction people appeared to have when it came to her. “Wait, why would you think I’m jealous?”

Ianto looked at him condescendingly. “Come on, Doctor, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

“And how do you know so much about that?”

“That’s enough questions, don’t you think?” Ianto asked. “Jack needed your help with that microfilament scrambler thing.”

And with that, he went back to whatever he’d been doing before. There seemed to be very little point to bug him any further and the Doctor decided to leave him to it.

He’d have to face the future with bare hands.

**o.O.o**

As Ianto woke up, he quickly realised that he would have much preferred dying as opposed to getting out of bed. His ribs still hurt – the large, dragon-like creature from yesterday had left a reminder of itself – and Jack had given him the day off. Even so, he wasn’t happy to be awake. Not in seven in the morning anyway.

And not with someone in his living room.

The noise came to him gradually, as if he was getting closer to the surface of the ocean. He recognised the obnoxiously loud music from one of the games for his Xbox and idly tried to figure out who could be out there.

There were four people with a key to his flat: Jack, who didn’t seem to be interested in games of that sort, Gwen, who found them pointless, Owen, who... who wasn’t here anymore (it was still difficult to get used to it, after so many months) and his sister, who wouldn’t touch his Xbox (or anyone’s Xbox, for that matter) with a ten foot pole.

The brief analysis had left him with no clue as to his visitor. No alien and/or burglar would waste any time to wake him up with the sounds from that thing instead of killing him in his sleep, so the gun he took with himself as he padded out of his bedroom probably wasn’t going to be all that useful, but he took it anyway.

As he came into the room – the sounds from DJ Hero getting even louder – Ianto froze where he was. His visitor was with his back to him; a painfully familiar pair of tweed-covered shoulders and an abundance of hair over them.

“Doctor?” he asked softly, voice definitely too quiet to be heard over the game, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the man in question paused the game and turned around with a smile that could outshine the sun.

“Oh, hello! I didn’t want to wake you up,” he confided in him, “but I was already thinking of it. I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

“This is the multiplayer mode,” Ianto said automatically and then closed his eyes against the headache he could feel arising. “You know, if I had known there would be a dead man sitting on my couch, I would have stayed in bed.”

Somewhere deep in his heart, he wasn’t as surprised as he’d thought he’d be. After all, this was the Doctor. If there was a man who could walk out of something like Canary Wharf _twice_ , it’d be him.

“Well, good thing none of us is dead, then,” the Doctor pointed out and then patted the couch next to him. “But... that’s just the thing. Come here.” Ianto obeyed soundlessly, barely able to hold back the grin that wanted to break out. He’d never thought he’d see him again – not this Doctor; not like this. “Do you remember what I told you about fixed points?”

“Yes,” Ianto nodded, trying to keep focused. The matters of space and time were still a bit difficult.

“Well, let’s say there’s a universe where something major will happen, and for humanity to survive after that, you have to die.” Ianto tensed and felt the Doctor’s hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him before he’d even tried to ask anything. “And let’s say that in this universe, it can be different. The world can survive, but so can you, if you act on time.”

“Will anyone else die because I won’t?” Ianto asked immediately. He knew that the Doctor probably wouldn’t have suggested it then, but he had to be sure.

“No. It can work out and everyone can live... but you have to come with me.”

“Right now?” Ianto asked. He knew that he would, if he needed, but he wasn’t sure what could be so urgent. “I can’t even say goodbye?”

“You can,” the Doctor assured him, “as long as you do it before tomorrow morning. But I just thought I knew you well enough to realise that you’d prefer to leave a note.”

As much as Ianto didn’t want to admit it, he was right. He loved his team more than anything, but he wouldn’t be able to look at them and say goodbye just like that when he knew that he could never come back.

“You’re right,” he admitted, reluctance lacing his voice. “I’ll go get my things.”

And just like that, it was decided. He packed very few things – the Doctor impatiently assured him that the TARDIS had everything he could need – and left a rather lengthy note explaining where he was and who was the one who’d taken him away. He made sure to say his goodbyes as clearly as possible and promised to visit if the timelines would allow it. Then, with a last look at his flat, he turned to the Doctor.

“You’ve parked her in the hallway, haven’t you? That’s what you kept doing in London.” It had irked him a lot back then, but now the realisation that things were exactly how they’d been before made him feel more secure in his decision.

“She’s over there,” the Doctor admitted sheepishly, pointing him exactly in the direction Ianto had expected. Ianto's only answer was a smile and a delighted laugh and, for the first time in two years, he didn’t feel as if a piece of him was missing anymore.


End file.
